


Café Escape

by Rookanga



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bank Robbery, Depression, Homosexuality, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Out of Character, Superheroes, internet stalking, suddenly the planet is in danger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 14:48:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4709882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rookanga/pseuds/Rookanga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What if I don’t want to come back?” Alfred asks.</p><p>Gilbert shrugs. “Some people don’t.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Café Escape

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote part of this three years ago, forgot about it, found it last year and finished it, put it out of my mind, wondered if I'd finished it, reread it, edited it, and decided to post it. It's not difficult to tell which parts I wrote first.
> 
> I'm not so happy with the pacing, but for all my efforts it isn't getting better. This is why you don't write things in two parts.
> 
> The word "gay" is used in a joking and derogatory manner, as is "sissy."
> 
> Alfred is not exactly depressed during parts of this story, but he is in a pretty bad place, mental health-wise. I debated putting depression in the tags but eventually decided to go ahead and do it. There isn't much time devoted to that part of Alfred's life because I suck at pacing, but it is present, and important.
> 
> Let me know if there's anything I didn't tag.

It is when Alfred is about to masturbate that he realizes it. Strange (or maybe not so strange) that it would happen now, of all times, but Alfred suddenly sees what he’s doing.

Scattered around him are pictures of naked men, interspersed with the naked woman or two to lessen his guilt.

I am gay, Alfred tells himself, suddenly feeling the prick of tears and bile rising in his throat.

“What did you think?” he asks himself in a whisper, unable to keep the tears at bay when he gags. “That you were getting off on Playboy magazine? Are you so far in denial that’s what you think?”

He supposes he should tell his parents. The thought of his mother crying, as he knew she would, is enough to cause him to gag again.

His father–how would he react? Would he disown Alfred? Never speak to him again? Or would seeing his son as gay change his views on homosexuality?

Most likely not the last one. Alfred’s father has a policy to never change his mind.

No, he couldn’t tell his parents. But Matthew? Alfred’s twin would surely accept him.

But if Matthew did reject him, Alfred knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Alfred has never been one to shy away from challenges, but there is too much risk assigned to this particular one.

He can’t tell anyone.

Hearing the sound of a key in the latch of the front door, Alfred shoves his conflictions down and hides any trace of what he was doing away.

“Hello! Alfred?” his mother calls from downstairs.

“Hi, Mom!” he shouts back, nearly certain that the words will come out tender as the gum right after a tooth is lost, the way Alfred feels right now, but to his surprise, he sounds like he normally does: cheerful, open, straight.

Matthew, who has just come home with their mother, comes upstairs.

“How was hockey practice?” Alfred asks.

Matthew gives his brother a funny look. “Fine, thank you. So are you going to set the table or should I?”

It feels surreal to talk about everyday subjects. But Alfred is almost grateful for it. It means that he’s still here, with his family. Nothing has changed. If Alfred clears his mind, he can almost believe that they know. They know, and they still love him.

“You set,” Alfred says. “I’ll wash the dishes.”

“Good,” Matthew replies. “It disgusts me to see the remnants of your food.” He stops, clearly waiting for Alfred to retort.

But right now, as if those words had completely switched the way he is feeling, Alfred can’t. Would I disgust you if you knew? “Hehe…yeah,” is all he can manage.

“Okay,” Matthew says, frowning at his brother. “I guess I’ll go set the table, then.”

After Matthew leaves, Alfred breathes out deeply and flops back on his bed.

Dinnertime comes too quickly. Alfred cannot face his family all together, as if they would somehow know, but he finally drags himself downstairs and seats himself at the table.

“Alfred,” his father says in his deep voice, “how was your day?”

“Fine,” Alfred mumbles quickly, and, in an attempt to avoid answering more questions, hastily shoves a forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.

Maybe it’s the way his father frowns at him, but the mashed potatoes don’t taste as good as they normally do.

Of course! He’d forgotten to put salt on them! He grabs for the saltshaker, sprinkles some on, and tries again.

It still doesn’t taste good so he adds more salt. And then more. And more. He doesn’t stop furiously shaking the little glass container of salt until his mother says warningly, “Alfred. That’s enough.”

Alfred puts the salt down and tries the potatoes again. They taste as bad as they did before, only now they make him thirsty.

Half-heartedly, he smoothes his potatoes out so they cover half the plate, ignoring to the conversation his family is having. He then presses his fork in and watches the whitish mush come out from between the prongs.

“What’s the matter, son? You’re usually the one driving the conversation.”

“Yeah. Just a little tired.”

His mother frowns, eyebrows bunched in worry. “You should go to bed earlier.”

“Don’t state the obvious,” her husband barks at her.

“Look at him!” his mother says, because when it’s about her children, she would go against anyone. “Are you feeling well, Alfred?”

Alfred is about to answer with a, “Yes, fine” when he realizes that this could get him a day off school. Another day when he won’t have to talk to his friends and avoid the subject of his sexuality. “Actually, I have a bit of a headache.”

His mother gets up from her seat and puts her hand to his forehead. “You don’t feel hot.”

“It’s probably nothing,” Alfred says. “I’ll feel better in the–uh.” He rubs his temple, his eyes shut.

“You should go to bed now, sweetie,” his mother tells him. “I hope you feel better.”

Alfred gets up and begins to walk upstairs. His parents look worried, but Matthew is just smiling at him, knowing full well that his brother is faking.

But while Alfred doesn’t really have a headache, he does feel sick. With himself. But he tries to forget this as he curls up under his covers.

The next morning, his parents leave for work, telling him to stay home because now, in addition to the headache, he has a stomachache.

Matthew leaves for school, giving Alfred a little grin, and then Alfred is alone.

He watches TV for a while, but eventually gets bored and decides to take the bus into the city. It’ll be simple enough. It’s not too far away, and if his parents call, he just has to find a quiet area and pretend he’s at home.

So that’s what he does.

Being in the city feels nice, better than it ever has before. Nobody knows him. Nobody asks what he’s doing out of school. Nobody asks him if he likes boys or girls. Because nobody cares. Normally this would make Alfred uncomfortable, maybe even upset, but right now it’s the best feeling in the world.

And then he sees it.

It’s a tiny little place, tucked between a pet store and a tattoo parlor, and everything about it seems…faded. But still, there’s a bustle of people coming in, and fewer leaving.

But this isn’t why Alfred is drawn to it, why he finds himself unable to look away.

No, the reason is printed on the pale green sign above the awning.

Café Escape.

Café Escape.

It’s the name that calls to him. Escape. Escape from his life. Escape from his family. As if he could up and go to a place of his choosing, where people would accept him and he wouldn’t have to hide. Not even from himself.

Even though he knows this isn’t possible, he finds himself entering the café.

A girl with large green eyes and a purple ribbon in her hair greets him at the door. Her nametag says, “Lili.” “Come in, sit down,” she says, leading him to a table and handing him a menu.

“Thanks,” he says, and she smiles and leaves.

Alfred opens the menu, and there he receives a surprise. There is no food. He shuts it and opens it again. It’s the same.

Finally he reads through the menu, unable to believe what he’s seeing.

Same, Different

Ever wanted to start over? And I mean really start over. Like Witness Protection Program start over. Well here is your chance. It’s a completely different world that is exactly like yours, so you can make friends, get a job, and have fun in a familiar setting.

Victorian Era

Are you one of those people obsessed with this period of time? Well, here’s your chance to live in a Victorian setting!

It’s a Wild, Wild World Out West

This is like a role-playing game in that you choose who you want to be: sheriff, outlaw, or general store keeper, only it’s for real!

Shoo-Bop, Shoo Wada Wada

Have you seen Grease more times than you can count? Do you love poodle skirts? Well, now you can live in the fifties and hair-curl your way through anything!

Fantastic

Knights and princesses and dragons, oh my! Live in a fantastical medieval setting, complete with jousting, wizards, and castles!

The Sci-fi 2000

Have your very own futuristic gadgets at your disposal, fly around space, and generally be in the world of science fiction!

Steampunk’d

Live in a steampunk world. ‘Nuff said.

These are all crazy items to be listed on a menu, but it’s the last one that keeps Alfred from running out of the café.

Smallville, Gotham, Where to Start?

Feel powerless? Well, no longer! In this universe, have superpowers and save the world!

“Save the world,” Alfred whispers. He waves Lili over.

“Ready to order?” she asks.

“Um…so do I just order one of these from the menu?”

Lili nods brightly. “Whatever you want.”

“Okay,” Alfred says. This is too weird, but he’s drawn to this place. He wants to be a superhero. “Um, then I’ll have Smallville, Gotham, Where to Start?”

Lili nods and writes it down on her pad. Alfred finds himself hoping that it isn’t just a fancy name for a sandwich.

“Okay,” Lili says, taking the menu. “That will be $3.95.”

Alfred hands her the money. She takes it and says, “Come with me, sir.”

Alfred, confused, gets up and follows.

Lili takes Alfred to the back of the café. She knocks on a door. “Eliza?”

A girl who must have been Eliza poked her head out from behind the door. “Client?”

Lili nods. “It’s his first time.”

Eliza’s mouth gapes, and Alfred catches a look of confusion and…recognition? on her face, before she grins brightly. “Well, great, then! I’m Elizaveta. Come with me.” She takes Alfred by the wrist. Alfred casts an uncertain glance at Lili before allowing Elizaveta to drag him away.

The room holds rack upon rack of costumes. Alfred notices that they correspond with the choices on the menu. There are Victorian period clothes, helmets, shields, and other sorts of knightly armor, and futuristic-looking clothing.

“So where are you going?” Elizaveta asks.

“Smallville, Gotham, Where to Start,” Alfred answers.

Elizaveta nods. “I’d thought you would be one of those superhero types. You’re going to be great. But first you need a costume. Come with me.”

Alfred follows Elizaveta to a secluded corner of the room, and finds himself amid costumes that look as if they belong in a superhero movie.

“Pick one out,” Elizaveta says, so Alfred chooses one that’s almost completely red, but with a blue mask and white stars sprinkled across the costume.

“Good choice,” Elizaveta praises. “Don’t worry about sizing; it’ll fit.”

“I’m back!” someone shouts suddenly.

“Okay, Gil!” Elizaveta yells back. “We’ve got another client to superhero-land! I just have to get him a watch.”

Elizaveta turns to Alfred. “That’s Gil. He can cross borders, so he’ll be taking you there.” She leans forward and says quietly, “Don’t take any of his shit, okay?”

“Uh, okay,” Alfred says.

“Okay,” Elizaveta says at her usual volume, leaning away from Alfred. “I’ll be right back.”

She disappears briefly. When she returns, she’s holding a pocketwatch in her hand. “Here,” she says, looping the chain around Alfred’s wrist. “This will tell you how much time has passed here while you’re over there. Now, come. I’ll introduce you to Gilbert.”

When Elizaveta and Alfred return to the center of the room, someone who Alfred assumes is Gilbert is slashing around with a sword.

“Gil!” Elizaveta shouts. “Put that down!”

Gilbert sighs and puts down the sword. His eyes meet Alfred’s.

Alfred tries not to gasp. The white hair on an obviously young man was unnerving, but the guy’s eyes are bright red. He’s albino, Alfred thinks.

A look of surprise crosses Gilbert’s face before morphing into a grin. “Hey kiddo!” Gilbert cries. “I’ve never seen you before. Your first time?”

“I guess so,” Alfred says, frowning. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Alfred.”

Gilbert tips his head. “You aren’t like this usually, are you?” he asks. “Come on, just be yourself.”

“Okay,” Alfred says. “Sorry.”

Gilbert shakes his head and sighs. “Come on. Don’t want to keep any other clients waiting.”

Alfred waves a quick goodbye to Elizaveta before following Gilbert through a door in the back of the room. There are eight all in a row, and Gilbert enters the one with a silhouette of a person wearing a cape, one arm stretched up.

The door leads into a brightly lit and colored elevator. Gilbert draws a small item from his pocket. It looks like a poker chip. He hands it to Alfred. “Put this in your pocket,” he instructs, “and don’t lose it. If you do you can’t come back.”

Alfred slides the chip into the pocket of his jeans. “So what is this place, exactly?” he asks as the elevator begins to descend.

Gilbert looks at him in bewilderment. “An elevator?”

“No.” Alfred wonders if Gilbert is messing with him or if he really is that dense. “I mean this café.”

“Oh.” Gilbert’s face breaks into a smile. “It’s a café up front and a portal to other worlds in the back.”

“So do people actually come in to eat?”

Gilbert shrugs. “Sure. Sometimes. I’m not in the actual café part much, so I don’t know how many, but if nobody came just for food, I would be a lot busier.”

“Do the people who just want food wonder why the menu is the way it is?”

“Nope! You probably didn’t notice, but Lili waited a moment to seat you. She was studying to see how you acted, and that told her if you needed an escape or if you just wanted some coffee.”

“Does she ever mess up?”

Gilbert shrugs again. “I guess so. But nothing bad has ever happened, so does it matter?”

“I guess not.” Alfred quiets, but Gilbert doesn’t seem to like that.

“Come on, man, any other questions?” he asks. “First-timers always have questions. Except for this one guy recently, but I don’t talk about clients with clients.”

“Okay, well, um…where do these elevators go? Other dimensions?”

“They aren’t all elevators, you know,” Gilbert says, rolling his eyes as if this is something Alfred should know. “But kinda. And if you go to a ‘dimension,’ as you say, that isn’t yours, you’ll find yourself being exceptionally successful. You know the people who get really rich for no reason or are sucky actors but get roles anyway? They’re probably from another dimension.”

“Elizaveta said that you could cross borders. What does that mean?”

“You know that chip I gave you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, regular people need those to cross dimensions. I give you one so you can get where you want to go, and so you can come back. The chips can only bring you to two places; for you, it’s superhero-land and here. And when you’re in your home dimension, you give it back to me, so you have to pay the next time you want to cross borders.” Gilbert laughs. “Not charging steeply does have a price.

“But anyway, the only way someone can cross borders without a chip is if they’re born during a crossing. It doesn’t matter to where; if you’re born during a crossing, you can freely border-jump.

“Every few decades they plan to have a baby born during a crossing. It’s very meticulous to plan it out, so to make things easier, the mother will spend her late pregnancy in the café. I mean, she’ll do everything in the café.

“I was born on the crossing to the fantasy dimension. The people who organize the births don’t like to do it there, because the trip is on horseback. It’s really hard to give birth properly on horseback. But the guy who was supposed to lead my mother to the proper door was an idiot or something, because my mother died giving birth to me. Luckily, she died practically in the fantasy dimension, and I was found. I was raised there.”

“Oh,” Alfred says, uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. About your mother.”

“Nah,” Gilbert says.

“Are you the only person who can cross borders right now?”

“Yep! Only one at the moment.”

“Why do you need to accompany me? Can’t you just give me the chip and send me on my way?”

Gilbert smacks Alfred on the head. “Does Charon allow the dead to cross the River Styx by themselves? No!”

“Fine, fine,” Alfred says. He stares at Gilbert, wondering if he should start thinking about whether or not the men he sees on the streets are hot. Gilbert, he supposes, is not bad, but Alfred doesn’t really know how to be attracted to men.

“What are you staring at?” Gilbert asks. “Hot for me?”

Alfred flushes. “No,” he mumbles.

Gilbert laughs. “Dude, are you? It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“No,” says Alfred.

“Whatever,” Gilbert laughs.

Alfred changes the subject. “Do you spend most of your time in my dimension?”

“Yeah,” Gilbert says. “Elizaveta was raised there and she lives there, so I like to hang around with her.”

“But don’t you like your dimension?”

“Nah. It’s too stifling, especially if you’ve already had a taste of what other dimensions can offer. Plus there are all these priests foretelling the apocalypse and stuff. It totally dampens your groove. We’re here.”

They exit the elevator and enter a room like the one Elizaveta and Alfred had been in before.

“This is a café too,” says Gilbert. “It’s a lot like the one in your dimension, and is also called Café Escape. There’s an apartment people from different dimensions can use until they get their own. Here’s the address.” Gilbert scrawls something on a scrap of paper and hands it to Alfred. “When you want to come back, just go into the café and show someone your chip. They’ll lead you back here. Wait for me to come get you.”

“What if I don’t want to come back?” Alfred asks.

Gilbert shrugs. “Some people don’t.”

Alfred looks around. So I guess I’m a superhero now or something. He looks down at the bundle in his arms. He hasn’t put on his costume yet.

A scream jolts Alfred out of his thoughts. He turns to where he thinks the scream came from, and sees a man in a sausage costume holding a woman upside down by her ankle. He’s standing on top of a garbage truck. For some reason, there is no one in the garbage truck.

“My name is Sausage Link!” he shouts. “I was once just a lowly advertisement,” he says the word like it’s a cuss, “for Ludwig’s Wurst Company, but no longer! I am now going to steal money so I can start my own place! It will be an Italian restaurant specializing in pasta and Sicilian pizza! Please come when it opens!”

Is this guy really my nemesis? Alfred wonders. Maybe not. Maybe he’s just a warm up. He shrugs and races into an alley to quickly change into his costume. It’s constricting, but whatever.

The newly superhero-fied Alfred comes out from the alley. “I wonder what my powers are,” he says to himself, but decides it doesn’t matter.

The spectators who are watching Sausage Link but aren’t doing anything for some reason, gasp at the sight of Alfred.

“What? What is it?” Sausage Link asks frantically.

“Help! Help me!” the woman shouts.

Sausage Link catches sight of Alfred and snarls. “No! You can’t defeat me!”

Alfred hops into the driver seat, hoping that the keys are there. They are. He remembers Gilbert saying that people from other dimensions are lucky. It seems kind of like a cheat to Alfred, but right now it doesn’t matter.

He turns the key and hears the engine start up. Then he steps on the gas. The truck jerks forward, and the pedestrians cheer as Sausage Link falls off the top with a thud. The woman falls on top of him and scrambles away quickly.

Alfred cuts the engine and runs over to the vanquished villain.

“Who…who are you?” Sausage Link asks.

“I’m, um, Heroic Dude, here to stop evildoers in this city!” Alfred shouts theatrically. The crowd cheers again, and begins chanting, “Heroic Dude! Heroic Dude!”

Sausage Link jumps up. “I’ll be back!” he shouts. “I will be opening my restaurant!” And with that, he runs off.

Alfred sighs. This was not what he was expecting. It was pathetic, really. A major disappointment. He checks the watch. He still has time, so he might as well play it up.

He motions for the chanting to stop. “Thank you, citizens!” he calls, trying to make his voice deeper. “Sausage Link has been defeated today!” With that, he does the Spider-man thing. Nothing happens. He jumps and tries to fly. Again, nothing.

The people watching begin talking between themselves, looking and sounding confused.

“Right, yes!” Alfred says, and runs away. It’s no faster than his usual speed.

He finds another alley and waits for the crowd to disperse. He’s upset. He thought he would be a hero, but he wound up fighting a sausage. Frustrated, he punches the brick wall of the building next to him.

His punch makes a crack, and pieces of brick rain down. “Oh,” he says. “That’s my superpower.”

Eventually he can sneak back into the original alley and changes back into his normal clothes, sighing in relief that his clothes are no longer so tight.

He checks the address on the slip of paper. 65 2nd Street, apt. 3b, it says.

“Okay,” Alfred mutters. “Just gotta find this place.”

He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just go back home. This place isn’t so great. But Alfred hasn’t thought once about girls and boys and what it all means once while here, and he doesn’t want to go back.

He begins walking, but finds himself hopelessly lost. “Excuse me,” he says to a man with blonde hair, who is walking with his head down. “Do you know where I can find number sixty-five, second street?”

The man looks up. He’s got huge eyebrows, but it’s his eyes that captivate Alfred. Large and the most beautiful shade of green Alfred has ever seen, it’s all he can do to act normally. This man, Alfred knows, is attractive.

“It’s that way,” the man mutters, motioning with his head. He continues walking, but Alfred isn’t ready to let the man go.

“So what’s your name?” he asks, walking alongside the man. “I’m Alfred.”

“Why do you want to know?” the man asks.

“I’m new in town, and I want to make friends,” Alfred says.

“Well, that’s a stupid move,” the man says. “For all you know, I could be a psychopath.”

Alfred considers this. “The people who unknowingly befriend psychopaths in movies usually end up okay,” he says.

“This isn’t a movie,” the man snaps. “Besides, you’re going the wrong direction.”

“That’s okay,” says Alfred. “I don’t need to go there. So really, what is your name?”

“It’s Arthur,” the man answers. “Now please go away.”

“No,” Alfred protests. “We’ve only just started becoming friends.”

Arthur makes a sound that is somewhere between a laugh and a huff. “You sound like Ivan.”

“Who’s Ivan?” Alfred asks. “Can we be friends?”

“Not unless you want to get killed,” Arthur replies. “He really is a psychopath.”

“I like to see the good in everyone,” Alfred says diplomatically.

“Whatever,” Arthur sighs. “You’re only getting further from your destination.”

“I told you I don’t really need to go there.”

“Fine,” Arthur huffs. “You don’t need to go there. Just please leave me alone.”

Alfred checks the watch again. “Shit,” he says. It is later than he thinks. If he wants to make it home before his parents get back, he needs to leave now.

“Do you know Café Escape?” he asks Arthur.

Arthur gives him a look. “What, now you’re leaving? No, I don’t know it.”

“Okay,” Alfred says, and runs back, trying to retrace his steps.

Luck is with him, though (the other-dimension phenomenon), and he finds it without much trouble.

He shows a waiter named Lars his chip, and he is led back to the clothing room. Gilbert appears after a few minutes.

“Hey there!” he greets cheerfully. “I hope you had an awesome time!”

“It was okay, I guess,” Alfred says, “but I’m in a rush, so can we go?”

When he gets back to his home dimension (the way back is in a car), he races past Elizaveta, who shouts hello, and out of the café.

He is antsy the entire bus ride home, and it isn’t just because he’s cutting it so close. He keeps remembering Arthur’s beautiful eyes. It sickens him when he realizes that he is getting a boner at the thought but decides that if he’s gay, he may as well go with it.

Because if his parents don’t approve, at least there are other worlds where he could be accepted.

Too bad he probably won’t ever see Arthur again.

The thought doesn’t make it difficult to pretend to be sick when his family comes home.

The next day it is decided that Alfred is well enough to go to school, as he doesn’t have a fever. His mother sees him off with instructions to go to the nurse if he doesn’t feel well.

Alfred agrees, but he knows he won’t go. He isn’t physically sick, after all.

His entire day is spent daydreaming about Arthur, no matter how much it hurts. In art class he draws eyes, and then fills in the irises with a mixture of different shades of green. The teacher and three of his classmates tell him they’re beautiful. He smiles and thanks them, but he knows they have nothing on Arthur’s.

It’s strange to talk to his friends. He never realized before how much they ask whether some girl is hot or not.

Eventually, sick of it all, Alfred leaves his friends and goes outside to sit on the steps leading to the front doors of the school.

“Can I sit here, Alfred-kun?” he hears somebody ask. It’s his childhood friend, Kiku.

“Of course,” he answers, moving his books away so there’s room.

“Why aren’t you with your friends?” Kiku asks.

“Just didn’t feel like it today.”

Kiku nods. “Yes, sometimes I feel the same.”

Alfred wants to ask if Kiku knows of Café Escape, but doesn’t know if there’s any protocol for talking about it. Is it like Fight Club, or is it okay to speak about?

“Mei said you drew beautiful eyes in class today,” Kiku remarks.

“They were okay,” says Alfred. Alfred doesn’t feel like talking, and Kiku doesn’t normally, so they sit in silence until Alfred says, “I miss being friends.”

“What makes you say that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I meant to say, why do you say that now of all times?”

Alfred shrugs his shoulders. “Dunno. I just…” He stared into Kiku’s inexpressive dark eyes. “If I turned out to be different than you thought I was, you wouldn’t hate me, would you?”

“I could never hate you,” Kiku objects in a rare moment of affection.

Alfred sighs. “Good. Me neither. Even if you were a cannibal.”

“Are you a cannibal, Alfred-kun?”

“What? No.”

“Oh good. I was worried for a moment.”

Alfred chuckles softly. “I met someone the other day.”

“Oh?” Kiku says politely.

“Yeah,” Alfred says. “We aren’t friends yet, but I intend to be his friend if I ever see him again.”

“Why would anyone not want to be friends with you?” Kiku says suddenly, shocking Alfred. He hadn’t known that Kiku valued their friendship so much.

“Yes,” Kiku continues, “there is no reason for anyone to not want to be friends with you. You come across as overly exuberant at first, but I am certain that if you spend more time with this person, he will want to be your friend too.”

Alfred grins. “You’re the best, Kiku. Why did we ever grow apart?”

“Because you like sports and I like photography,” Kiku says matter-of-factly.

“I could like photography,” Alfred protests. “Spider-man likes photography, and he’s a superhero like me.”

Kiku smiles slightly and shakes his head. Alfred knows he thinks he’s joking.

“What happened today in school, boys?” his mother asks at dinner.

“Nothing,” Matthew says softly.

“I talked to Kiku,” Alfred says.

“Really? That’s nice. I miss that boy.” His mother chuckles. “Tell me, has he loosened up at all?”

Alfred thinks about that for a moment. “Kind of. Not really.” He and his mother laugh, and Matthew too, with his quiet, breathy laugh, and finally Alfred’s father makes a low, “Heh,” sound, and Alfred realizes that his whole family is laughing together, and he’s happy. He isn’t worried about how they will react once they find out he’s gay.

This euphoria is almost enough to make him reveal his sexuality to his family, but then his dad makes a remark about gay marriage and how he doesn’t support it, and Alfred, mouth open to speak, shuts it quickly. 

“You don’t seem to support marriage between us either, the way you act sometimes,” his mother mutters, not seeing the way her son has dropped his head and his smile.

Alfred glances quickly at Matthew, hoping that his brother will have a look of disapproval on his face, but Matthew is staring forward, the picture of attentiveness.

Tears come to his eyes, and trying to blink them back only serves in making them fall. He tries to discreetly grab his napkin and wipe them away, praying that no one sees.

Luck is not with him in this dimension, though. Matthew takes his eyes off their parents and stares at him.

“Are you okay?” he hisses.

“Yeah,” Alfred says. “Just got something in my eye.”

“Okay,” Matthew says doubtfully. “If you say so. But I’m here if you need to talk.”

Alfred wrinkles his nose at his brother. “I said I got something in my eye. I’m not a sissy like you.”

“Whatever,” Matthew says mildly, turning away.

Alfred feels momentarily guilty, but decides that Matthew doesn’t look as if he’s hurt by Alfred’s snappishness, so Alfred absolves himself of guilt and shovels some food in his mouth.

 

Alfred spends the next few days longing for the chance to go into the city on his own so he can go to Café Escape. He wonders if people from different dimensions can be found online when he has the brilliant idea of checking to see if the café has a website.

Lo and behold, it does, and there are separate tabs for each dimension. Alfred wonders why the back-of-the-room function is displayed so openly before deciding that people coming in for a snack likely wouldn’t Google the café.

In the Smallville, Gotham, Where to Start? section there’s a link to the WhitePages of the superhero world, Look ‘Em Up. Alfred searches for every Arthur, but there aren’t pictures, so Alfred doesn’t know which is the real one.

There’s also a link to a social networking site in the other dimension, Contact College Friends. Alfred looks up “Arthur” and fishes through all of them.

It’s long and tedious, and Alfred doesn’t even know if Arthur has a CCF. But eventually Alfred finds a small picture of someone with gorgeous green eyes. Judging from the thick dark eyebrows above them, this is his Arthur.

Arthur Kirkland, it says, but when Alfred tries to click on the profile, he can’t see it. He has to be a friend.

Alfred quickly makes a CCF, and requests to friend Arthur. Then he goes back to Look ‘Em Up and searches for Arthur Kirkland. He gets his address and phone number.

“Alfred, what have you been doing?” his mother asks, entering his room. “It’s late. Go to bed.”

He shuts his laptop. “Yeah, Mom.”

His mother smiles at him. “Good night, sweetie,” she says as she leaves.

Obviously, though, Alfred doesn’t go to sleep. He lies on his bed in the dark, hand over his heart. When his mind isn’t going crazy thinking, Arthur Kirkland, Arthur Kirkland, he’s entranced by its beat. He pretends it’s Arthur’s heartbeat, and Alfred’s ear is against it.

The fantasy makes him feel dirty, regretful, and unhappy. But he also knows that he doesn’t want to stay here. Sausage Link isn’t enough to deter him from the other dimension when he remembers Arthur’s beautiful eyes.

Saturday morning, Alfred wakes to bumping around in the hall.

“Matt?” he called sleepily.

Matthew pokes his head into Alfred’s room. “I’m going to the city.”

Alfred sits up. “So am I. Wait for me.”

“No,” Matthew says. “I’m leaving now.”

“Fine,” Alfred pouts. “I’ll just have a better time.”

“Okay, Al.”

Alfred showers, dresses, eats, and is out of the door half an hour after Matthew leaves.

“Look, our boys are leaving us,” their mother says playfully to their father. “It’s like they think they’re in college already.”

Alfred smirks. “Yeah, right, Mom. Bye!”

“Bye! Be safe!”

The bus is crowded, so Alfred stands with his fingers through a handhold. Excited to see Arthur, he jumps up and down and accidentally kicks an old woman, who shouts obscenities at him. The bus driver kicks him out.

“What?” Alfred cries. “You can’t do this! This isn’t even a bus stop! Please!”

The bus pulls away, but Alfred screams after it.

“You aren’t going to kick that lady out? She was saying horrible things with children present!”

Finally, defeated, Alfred is forced to walk to the nearest bus stop and wait for the next bus. He doesn’t bounce around this time.

Alfred enters Café Escape happily. Lili smiles at him and hands him a menu. This one has food on it. He hands it back. “The other one, please. Actually, I’ll just get Smallville, Gotham, Where to Start?”

“Okay,” Lili says. “I remember–you were here last week. Okay, you can go back and find Elizaveta now.”

“Thanks,” Alfred says, handing her three dollars and ninety-five cents.

“Do you think you’re going to come here often? Because we have a membership pass that costs only eighty-four dollars.”

“I don’t have that kind of money on me right now,” Alfred explains. “Maybe next time.”

He knocks on the door Lili took him to last time. Elizaveta opens it.

“You’re back!” she says. “Welcome! Do you have your costume on you?”

Alfred nods, and Elizaveta gives him another watch. “Let’s wait for Gilbert, then.”

“So, Alfred,” Elizaveta says while they’re waiting, “do you have girlfriend or boyfriend? Preferably boyfriend?”

Alfred chokes. “N-no!”

“Aw, come on!” Eliaveta continues. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of or hide. As far as I’m concerned, if you come back, you’re family.”

It feels nice, Alfred has to admit, to be called family by someone who seems to want him to be gay. “I’m really not dating anyone at the moment.”

Elizaveta pounces. “You said, ‘at the moment’!”

“So?”

“So you obviously want a boyfriend!”

“What makes you even think I’m gay?”

Elizaveta rolls her eyes.

Alfred grins and laughs. “Okay,” he says. “You’re brilliant, I get it.”

“So you are gay.”

Alfred doesn’t stop smiling as he nods. With Elizaveta, it doesn’t seem like it’s such a big deal.

“I knew it!” Elizaveta shouts. “This is great! Be sure to invite me to your wedding!” She punches him on the shoulder. It actually really hurts.

“Ow,” he complains, just as Gilbert enters through what Alfred can only assume is the Science Fiction door (it has a spaceship on it) with another person.

Wait, is that a person?

The…figure that had emerged with Gilbert is short and thin, with grey shin and red eyes.

“It’s an alien!” Alfred remarks, and is immediately reminded of his father saying not to state the obvious.

“Yep!” Gilbert laughs. “Cool, huh? He wanted to come check out Roswell. He was the one who crashed there in 1947.”

“No shit?” Alfred says. “That’s so cool, man.”

The alien just moves his head in a nod-like motion.

“What’s your name, dude?” Alfred asks.

“My name is Tony,” the alien says.

“That’s a great name! Tony. I like it.”

Gilbert and Elizaveta exchange looks of bewilderment. “Alfred,” Elizaveta says, “I just heard him say, ‘fucking fucker,’ not that his name was Tony.”

“Pshaw!” Alfred says. “He totally said that his name was Tony.”

“He was cursing the whole beam, too,” Gilbert says. “I wonder what you would think he said.”

“The science fiction thing is a beam?” Alfred says excitedly. “That’s so cool! I didn’t know you could speak while you were being beamed. At least, you can’t in Star Trek.”

“It’s not really so much of a beam as it is a really shiny tube that you’re pushed up by suction,” Gilbert replies. “Pretty awesome, huh?”

“Totally!” Alfred says, but then someone else comes in.

“We better get on with it,” says Gilbert.

“Okay,” Alfred says. “See you later, Elizaveta. Bye, Tony.”

“So I guess you enjoyed superhero-land last time, huh?” says Gilbert. “’Cuz you didn’t seem that pleased with it on the way back last time.”

“Well, I want to go back,” Alfred says.

Gilbert looks offended. “You found some other guy that you would rather fuck than me, didn’t you?”

“Why is everyone here obsessed with me being gay?”

Gilbert just smirks at him. “I didn’t ask you this last time, but my brother lives in this dimension, so if you could just tell him that I say hi and that I’m taking the day off for his birthday so we can hang out, that would be great. His name is Ludwig. You can find him at Ludwig’s Wurst Company, a restaurant and sausage store.”

Alfred frowns. “Ludwig’s Wurst Company? The villain I fought last time said he advertised for that place.”

“Awesome,” Gilbert says. “I hope Ludwig didn’t fire him. I want to meet that guy.”

“He was kind of lame,” Alfred says. “Actually, he was completely lame.”

Gilbert looks disappointed. “Oh. That’s too bad.”

“Bye,” Alfred says to Gilbert as the elevator door opens. Gilbert nods a goodbye to Alfred before talking to another client.

The crumpled scrap of paper held in his fist pokes Alfred’s fingers. I’m here! I’m here!

Alfred rolls his eyes. “As if I could forget,” he says out loud.

A person passing by gives him a strange look.

“First,” Alfred says to himself, lowering his voice so he can’t be heard, “go find Gilbert’s brother and tell him Gilbert’s coming for his birthday. Second, find Arthur.”

Nodding resolutely, Alfred follows his inbred sense that has been helpful in tracking down the nearest barbeque time and time again. Sure enough, it leads him to a place called Ludwig’s Wurst Company.

The sign says Closed, and Alfred can hear shouting coming from inside. Peering through the window, he can make out three figures. One is tall and stocky, with slicked-back blonde hair. He is shouting at a shorter, scrawnier man who has dark hair with a curl. Another man who looks very similar to the second but with lighter hair is sitting on a table behind the two.

“What the hell, Lovino? Why did you do that?” the blonde demands of the dark-haired one.

“Maybe I don’t want to work here anymore! In fact, I never did! So you can just shove it up your potato-crapping ass and let me do what I want!” the dark-haired one shouts back.

The blonde puts his thumb and index finger on the bridge of his nose. “Stop trying to be vengeful, Lovino! You and I both know your alter ego is ridiculous!”

“I think it’s cute,” the man who is sitting pipes up. He waves at Alfred, causing him to scoot away from the door.

The blonde opens it and stares coldly at Alfred. Likewise, the dark-haired man is glaring and scowling in his direction. The only one who seems happy with this situation is the one sitting down.

“We’re closed,” the blonde says. He’s younger than he seemed from the other side of the door. All three of them are barely older than Alfred.

“I’m Alfred. I was asked to come here by, um, Gilbert.” Alfred suddenly realizes that he doesn’t know Gilbert’s last name.

The blonde looks at him suspiciously. “Gilbert who?”

Alfred scratches his head uncertainly. “I, uh, don’t actually know. But he works at Cafe Escape!”

The blonde sighs. “Alright, that’s my brother. Come in.”

“Ve! Hi there!” the man (boy?) who is no longer sitting exclaims, walking up to Alfred and kissing him on both cheeks. “I am Feliciano, this is my brother Lovino, and this is Ludwig!”

Alfred glances at Ludwig, the blonde. “You don’t look old enough to have started a company.”

“My father started it when I was a boy and named it after me,” Ludwig explains.

“Oh. Well Gilbert says hi and that he’s coming for your birthday.”

“Must he?” Alfred is caught off guard by how weary Ludwig seems at the prospect.

“Don’t you want your little brother there?” Alfred asks.

“He’s older.”

“But he said his mother died giving birth to him.”

“She did,” Ludwig acknowledges, “but she was expected to return home with the baby, so our father stayed. She never came back, and neither did Gilbert. My father, in his grief, moved here and started this wurst company. He still made regular trips into his own world, and one day he met Gilbert in the elevator. They somehow figured out that they were father and son, and my father died happy.”

Alfred grins. “That’s a nice story,” he says, even though it doesn’t answer his question.

Lovino rolls his eyes. “Yeah. One nice fucking story.”

Alfred stares at Lovino. “Have I seen you before?”

“Probably not,” Lovino mutters.

“No, I definitely have,” Alfred muses.

“Well if you knew you’d seen me, why did you ask?”

“Don’t be mean, Lovi! Think about pasta!”

“Pasta is the last thing I want to think about while I’m still stuck with this potato bastard! Once I have my restaurant, then I will think about pasta.”

Oh. Now Alfred knows where he knows Lovino from. “Sausage Link?”

All conversation stops. Everyone stares at him.

“How do you know about that?” Lovino demands. “Tell me! How?”

“I, uh, I was there! I saw the whole thing! How you grabbed that woman, how Heroic Dude saved the day…”

Lovino frowns. “I didn’t see you there.” Realization dawns on his face. “He’s from another world.”

“I call them dimensions,” Alfred supplies, not understanding why it’s important.

Feliciano seems to share Alfred’s confusion. “What does that mean, Fratello?”

Lovino grits his teeth. “He came to the superhero ‘dimension,’” he makes quotation marks with his fingers around the last word, “from wherever he comes from. Think about it!”

Alfred thinks he can feel his face whiten.

Feliciano chews his bottom lip. “I don’t get it.”

“Alfred’s the superhero,” Ludwig says gruffly.

“Oh!” Feliciano’s face breaks into a smile. “Well, that’s great!”

“No, it’s not great, stupido!” Lovino shouts. “I’m the villain!”

“Well, you need to stop, dude,” Alfred says.

Lovino wheels around. “Don’t tell me what to do!”

Ludwig clamps a huge hand on Lovino’s shoulder.

“Anyway,” Alfred says, shrugging. “I just came to deliver that message. I have to go somewhere else now.” He leveled his eyes at Lovino. “Don’t try anything. I have super strength in this dimension.”

Alfred’s hands are shaking by the time he is standing in front of Arthur’s door. It’s dark, brownish red, and a gilded number “2” and letter “A” are hung side by side.

When Alfred reaches up to knock, his knuckles only scrape the surface, barely making a sound. He clears his throat nervously and knocks a little harder. His fist makes a dent in the door.

Alfred gapes at it for a moment, until the door is pulled open and there Arthur is.

Staring into those beautiful green eyes, Alfred almost misses what he says. “What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?”

Shit. Alfred hadn’t thought about how showing up at some random guy’s door would look. “Uh, yes. I mean no! I’m not stalking you! I just looked you up on CCF and then on Look ‘Em Up.”

“So in other words,” Arthur says slowly, “You’re stalking me.”

Alfred rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe? Kind of?”

Arthur frowns at him. “Look, I admit that there was something endearing about your complete disregard of caution and street safety, but forgive me if that also makes me a bit wary of you. I mean, I don’t know you at all.”

“You can get to know me,” Alfred says. “I swear I’m not weird. Okay, it probably didn’t make the best impression that I was basically stalking you, but at least I admitted it, right? That shows I have some integrity!”

“Or it could be a clever ploy to infiltrate my life,” Arthur replies. “I live quite a comfortable life, you know, and I would rather it not be infiltrated.”

“I promise that my infiltration of your life will only be positive,” Alfred says.

Arthur stares at Alfred for ten seconds, green eyes thoughtful. “Alright,” he says finally. “I suppose you’re the one that ought to be worried anyway.” He raises a thick eyebrow. “I have friends no one else can see, but I swear, they’re very real.”

“Wow, that’s so cool, dude!” Alfred says in response.

Arthur pauses, then steps aside to let Alfred in.

Alfred looks around. Arthur’s got a small living room/kitchen. Two doors stand on the opposite side of the room, presumably to a bathroom and a bedroom.

“Nice place,” Alfred compliments.

“Thanks,” Arthur says. “Not that it’s anything special. It’s all a uni student like me can afford at the moment without having a roommate.” He shudders. “I would hate having a roommate.”

“Haha!” Alfred laughs, slapping Arthur on the shoulder. Arthur lurches forward.

“Good God, man!” Arthur exclaims. “What are you, a bodybuilder?”

“So, got any burgers?” Alfred asks, awkwardly avoiding the question.

“No,” Arthur says.

“Any food? At all?”

“I’ve got some scones, but to be quite honest, I don’t really want to give you any of my food.”

“Aww, Artie!”

Arthur’s cheeks reddened. “Don’t call me that!”

“Why not? I think it’s cute.”

“It is not cute!”

“You’re right,” Alfred agrees, causing Arthur to sigh in relief. “It makes you seem like even more of a nerd.”

“What? Mind you, I am a lot smarter than you are, but that doesn’t make me a nerd! You’re the one with glasses!”

“Wot?” Alfred says in a bad British accent. “Ah you stereotaiping neuhds? Not awl neuhds have glawsses. Some kewel paypel do too!”

“What are you even blathering on about?”

“Wot ah you eeven blathering un about?”

“Stop that, you git!”

“Stohp that, you get!”

“I don’t talk like that!”

“Aye don’t tawk lyek that!”

Arthur huffed.

“Seriously though,” Alfred says in his usual accent. “Food?”

“All right, in the kitchen,” Arthur mutters.

Alfred bounces and hugs Arthur, his arms draped over the shorter man’s shoulders. “I love you!” he shouts. Then he unwraps himself from Arthur and starts toward the kitchen area of the room.

“What are you, gay?”

Alfred stops walking. He doesn’t turn to face Arthur. He knows it was made as a joke, but now he can’t breathe. Strange, considering the way he felt earlier with Elizaveta, but Alfred doesn’t bother thinking about it.

“Hey, are you alright?” There’s genuine worry in Arthur’s tone.

Alfred takes a shuddering breath and turns around with a smile plastered on his face. “Yeah. What are you, gay?”

Arthur splutters. “No! No, I’m not! I don’t see what that even has to do with anything.”

Alfred struggles to keep the smile on his face. “I know, dude! Just kidding with you. You know what? I, um, I actually have to go, so, I don’t know, I’ll come back another day, okay?”

“Okay,” Arthur says. Alfred thinks he sounds a little concerned, but it’s probably just his imagination.

Alfred backs away, toward the front door, stubbornly keeping the smile on his face. “Okay, well, bye!” He pulls the door open, backs out, and shuts it quickly. As if someone were chasing him, he runs down the stairs and stops in the lobby, leaning against the wall.

“Of course he doesn’t like boys,” Alfred whispers. “Of course he doesn’t. I was silly to think…”

His voice trails off. What had he thought? One minute the thought of being in a romantic relationship with another man repulsed him, and the next he longed for it.

“Are you alright?”

Alfred hears the lilting Britishness of the words, but doesn’t let himself believe they come from Arthur’s mouth. Arthur hates him, because he’s annoying, just like his parents will hate him when the find out what he is.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles.

The speaker moves so Alfred can see him. It is Arthur. “No you aren’t,” Arthur says. “You’re crying.”

“Am not!”

Arthur smiles in an amused but not really happy way. “Yes, you are. Come. Let’s go back upstairs.”

“Why are you trusting me all of a sudden?” Alfred asks as they make the ascent.

“I have no idea.” The Brit seemed to have returned to his grumpy self the second his foot hit the first stair. “It isn’t as if I want to be helping a possible serial killer such as yourself.”

“Aw, you’re just a big softy inside, aren’t ya?” Alfred croons.

“I could ask you why you were going from happy to upset to happy again,” Arthur remarks.

Alfred shrugs. “Dunno.”

They reenter Arthur’s apartment, and Alfred plops down on the couch.

“Let me make you some tea before you turn into a sobbing mess,” Arthur says.

Alfred wrinkles his nose. “I don’t like tea,” he says.

“Then you’ll have nothing.”

A crash comes from outside. Alfred and Arthur run to the window and look out.

“What is that?” Arthur asks.

“I don’t know,” Alfred lies. He can just make out what he thinks is a sausage costume. Why do I have to be the superhero? “I have to go. I’ll be back.” He says it in the Terminator voice, but Arthur looks confused, so either he hasn’t seen the movie or it doesn’t exist in this dimension.

Alfred changes behind a trash compactor. It isn’t ideal, but it gives him cover.

He jumps out from behind it and shouts, “Sausage Link!”

Lovino whirls around. “Heroic Dude!” he snarls.

“You should have learned your lesson last time!” Alfred calls. “This time I won’t be as merciful.”

“You just try!” Lovino jeers.

Alfred runs toward him and yanks him down to the ground. “What the hell are you doing?” he hisses.

Lovino glares at him. “I’m about to rob a bank. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Being an idiot.”

Alfred expects Lovino to growl something, but he just wrinkles his nose. “I hate it,” he mutters. “I hate this. I hate my life.”

Alfred glances up. The people on the street are staring at them, probably wondering what the would-be nemeses are doing talking quietly on the ground.

“Me too,” Alfred whispers.

“Of course you do,” says Lovino. “Why else would you go to a different world?”

“Why don’t you do that?” Alfred asks.

Lovino struggles to his feet. “Unlike you, I don’t run away from my problems.”

Alfred stands too and shoves Lovino in the shoulder. “No, you give yourself a stupid name and rob banks. If that isn’t running away, I don’t know what is.”

“Shut up! You don’t know anything!”

“Okay. Whatever.”

“You know what? Much as I hate to say it, you’re right.”

“I am?”

“Yes. I won’t rob a bank until I am more powerful than you!” Lovino laughs and scurries off.

Alfred shrugs. “He’s gone. Nothing to see here.” The bystanders eventually trickle back in with the other people.

Heaving a sigh, Alfred hauls himself away from the scene, trying to ignore the looks he’s getting from the people who have stuck around. Some are full of admiration, some with confusion, and most with both.

Of course, Alfred thinks. They’re from superhero-land. They’re probably used to more extravagant superheroes. Still though, he’s feeling pretty good about himself. Maybe Sausage Link will make a reappearance, but Alfred took steps with Arthur today. That has to count for something.

Alfred finds a playground empty but for a young mother with a baby and discreetly enters the bathroom to change. He glances at his watch. He’s got some time, but not much. Maybe he can go back to Arthur’s and grab a scone for the road.

The scone really isn’t worth it.

Chucking it in a trashcan on his way back to the café, Alfred begins to feel a bounce in his step. He’s on his way to becoming friends with Arthur. He can really feel the beginnings of a complicated relationship with his nemesis coming on. He’s feeling good.

He smiles and says hello to everyone he passes on the street. As he enters the café, he stretches his arms out wide, throws one leg up and does an awkward little half-spin. The stirred air sends Alfred the scent of marijuana off Lars. For a moment Alfred considers asking the guy if he’s got any that Alfred could smoke, but decides that he doesn’t need pot to get high. He’s high enough already, and besides, if his parents smell it, he won’t be allowed to go to the city for months, and that means no Café Escape.

So he just shows his chip to Lars, who waves him to the back without looking up from his magazine. When Gilbert arrives Alfred wraps him up in a hug and chatters the whole ride back to his dimension, where he grabs Elizaveta’s hand and spins her around, gives Lili an exaggerated wink that makes her laugh, and saunters out the door of the café.

The minute he steps outside, however, his good feeling vanishes. In the warmth of the café he felt safe and loved, but here, surrounded by the screeching of tires and honking of horns and the overly cheerful, nonsensical chatter of a homeless man, he suddenly feels alone and hopeless again. Blinking back tears, he drops some change in the Styrofoam cup the homeless guy is holding in his hands, prompting him to say, “God bless,” over and over again.

At least someone thinks I should be blessed, Alfred thinks. Not that that means much. That guy doesn’t know about all the times I fucked up.

 

And so it continues. Alfred goes to school, daydreams about Arthur, wonders what Lovino gets up to when Alfred’s not there, eats lunch (sometimes with Kiku, sometimes alone, but never with his old group of friends, and slowly they stop inviting him to their houses or to go out for a movie), goes home (he skips basketball everyday now. His coach warned him that if he didn’t start coming, he would be kicked off the team, but Alfred doesn’t change his behavior. It’s just too weird being in the locker room), pushes his dinner around with his fork and doesn’t actually eat much, lies when his parents ask him if he’s done his homework, goes back to his room and chats with Arthur on CCF (oh, how his heart had soared when Arthur had accepted his friend request), and then he cries himself to sleep. His grades are slipping but he can’t bring himself to care; the only class he tries in now is art, where he has devoted himself to painting Arthur’s likeness, but it never turns out right.

But on the weekends--Alfred lives for the weekends--he goes into the city and practically runs to Cafe Escape, and Lili gives him a big smile and waves him through without even handing him a menu. Elizaveta laughs and teases him and he and Gilbert have begun a contest where they tell each other jokes and the one who laughs first has to buy the other a slice of pie at the cafe.

And then there’s his life in the superhero dimension. Lovino is still a joke as Sausage Link, although he’s been getting more and more aggressive. Alfred has actually had to punch him to stop him from criminal activity. He sees Ludwig and Feliciano too, when he escorts Lovino back to Ludwig’s restaurant. Sometimes Feliciano sits him down and pushes a plate of pasta towards him, and Alfred eats like the athlete he used to be for the first time in a week.

But Alfred never leaves the superhero dimension without a visit to Arthur’s apartment. Sometimes Arthur offers Alfred food, but Alfred knows better than to take it, now. Sometimes they take a walk around the block, or play one of the video games from Arthur’s limited collection, but usually Arthur studies or writes essays for classes with names like Sexual Lives of Medieval Princesses or Social and Spatial Dimensions of Post-Roman Infrastructure while Alfred fights with Arthur’s cat, Crumpet, for the sunny spot on Arthur’s couch, and the two keep each other company in silence. Alfred has never been one for silence, but he’s never known it to be as peaceful as it is during those afternoons with Arthur.

And no, Alfred still has not told Arthur how he feels.

The charade is up. Alfred’s parents enter his room one evening. His mother sits down on the edge of his bed. His father stays standing. His tall and stocky frame make him look too big for Alfred’s room. He makes an imposing shadow against the baby blue walls he painted himself when Alfred was four and getting his own room.

“Alfred,” his mother begins, a little nervously. “We got a call from your school.”

“Oh,” says Alfred.

“Tell us what’s wrong, baby. Why haven’t you been studying? What can we do to help you?”

“Nothing,” Alfred mumbles.

“Son,” says his father, and to his shame Alfred feels his eyes pricking with tears. He doesn’t cry in front of his father. “Try harder.”

“Stop,” his mother hisses in a low voice, as if that will keep Alfred, less than a foot away from her, from hearing her words. “Do you think that’s helping?”

“This is unacceptable,” his father responds. “You think I raised my sons to be slackers?”

“Well, I just think that we should be looking for the root of the problem. Alfred’s always been a good boy. If he’s doing badly in school there’s probably something else wrong.” Alfred’s mother rubs his shoulder gently.

“Oh, yes, you do your ‘nice parent’ thing again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You always do this. You always try to turn my sons against me.”

“Yeah, turn this around on me, like always!”

“I know my fucking science, Cathy! Who do you think contributed that Y-chromosome, huh?”

“Well who did all the work pushing two of ‘your’ goddamn offspring out, while you stood there bossing around the nurses, because you always have to be in charge? Who? Who!” Alfred’s mother’s voice could break glass.

Alfred envies Matthew, alone in his room.

 

So Alfred’s grounded. His mother says it’s for his benefit, so he’ll spend more time studying, but Alfred can’t help but feel a burning hatred towards her. Toward them both. How dare they take away his escape?

But if he wants to ever be allowed to go back into the city by himself, he’s going to have to start working. He does his homework for the first time in weeks. He studies for all his classes (he seems to remember one of his teachers saying something about a test next week, but he can’t remember which). He calls Kiku and his mother allows him to come over and help Alfred study under strict supervision.

But he’s still just going through the motions, not really caring what happens as long as it gets him back to the cafe, back to being a superhero, back to Arthur. Until one day, at the library, he sees a book entitled The Many Worlds Theory: Why Quantum Matter Changes Shape. It’s about a theory about something super science-fiction-y but real, and he doesn’t understand an eighth about what the author is going on about.

It’s the best thing he’s ever read. He stays up all night reading it.

He learns that what he’s been calling dimensions can’t really be called dimensions, despite what he’s seen in comic books. Dimensions are like Flatland. His superhero world and the others are parallel universes. He can’t call them dimensions any longer, because he’s no longer just Alfred Jones. Now he’s Alfred Jones, budding physicist. He wants to take notes on this like crazy, but he can’t find the pen he was sure he’d just put down next to him and he doesn’t want to get out of bed.

But it’s not all good. He still feels sick to his stomach around his family more often than not. He still cries himself to sleep. One night he wakes up at three with his lip bloody where he’s bitten through it in his sleep.

But slowly, very slowly, things are getting better.

 

One day, he’s sitting on the steps outside his school, and Kiku is next to him. They aren’t talking. Alfred doesn’t talk as much nowadays as he used to. He takes a bite of his turkey sandwich. It sticks to the roof of his mouth. Alfred gags and puts the sandwich away.

“I’m gay,” he announces suddenly.

Alfred won’t realize this until later, but that’s the first time he’s ever said that sentence out loud.

Kiku looks over at him and Alfred claps his hands to his mouth. He feels like he’s going to vomit.

“Okay,” says Kiku, and Alfred hadn’t known how heavy the load on his shoulders was until it is lifted.

 

Alfred is more happy than he’s ever been when he’s finally allowed to go back to the city. His parents have told him sternly that he’s not allowed to go alone, however, so he and Matthew take the bus together. Alfred’s okay with this, because he figures that he and Matthew are going to part ways once they get to their own stop.

But their stop is the same stop. And the direction is the same. Alfred feels panic building, and then they’re outside the cafe and Matthew’s saying goodbye.

“Wait--what?” Alfred says intelligently.

“This is where I’m going. What do you say we meet back at the bus stop at six, so we don’t have to deal with rush hour,” Matthew says.

Alfred is about to ask his brother what he’s doing at his cafe when Lili, apparently having seen them through the window, pokes her head out the door and says, “Hey, Alfred, Matthew, are you two coming in?”

It gives Alfred a puerile sense of satisfaction that Lili said his name before Matthew’s.

“In a minute, Lili,” Matthew says. Lili nods and ducks back inside.

“So,” Matthew says. “You come here too.”

Alfred nods and puts his teeth to his lip, before remembering that it’s still painful from where he bit it. “Remember that day I pretended to be sick? That was the first time.”

“My first was the weekend before that,” Matthew replies, and Alfred doesn’t know why, but it stings that the cafe was Matthew’s before it was his.

“Oh.”

“Does this--” Matthew pauses, “Does this have anything to do with why your grades have been so bad recently?”

“Yes. No. Kind of.” Matthew’s looking at him expectantly, so Alfred continues. “I’m just never happy anymore, y’know? Not unless I’m here.” And then it all (or almost all) comes spilling out. “And I don’t know who to talk to. I’m scared that Mom and Dad won’t love me anymore if I tell them, and they’re always fighting anyway and it scares me when they shout at each other or say things against the other and I cry all the time for no reason, even in front of Dad and he scares me so much.”

Matthew steps forward, wraps his arms around Alfred, enveloping him in Matthew’s baggy red sweatshirt, and presses his cheek to Alfred’s chest. “You can always talk to me, ’kay? Always.”

“’Kay,” says Alfred, and then his cheeks are wet and for once he doesn’t try to stop the tears from coming.

 

They go inside, but they don’t continue to their preferred dimensions--sorry, parallel universes--before sitting down at a table and just talking about their lives. Alfred is excited to discover his brother again and he thinks Matthew is excited too, and he no longer cares that they’ll have to share the cafe.

 

Of course, the first thing that Alfred does in the superhero universe is make a beeline for Arthur’s apartment.

“There you are!” Arthur exclaims when he opens the door. “Where have you been?”

“I was grounded,” Alfred says.

“I was worried,” Arthur replies.

And then they stare at each other, and have a moment (at least according to Alfred).

“Anyway,” Arthur says, “why don’t you come in? I’ve just put the kettle on.”

“Sure,” Alfred says, stepping through the door and kicking his shoes off. “By the way, can you say, ‘Want a cuppa?’”

Arthur smacks the back of Alfred’s head in the most friendly way possible. “I can, but I absolutely will not.”

And just like that, they resume as if Alfred had never been away. They drink tea and do a crossword, and when Alfred is bored Arthur puts that away and they play Scrabble instead. Arthur tells Alfred about which of his final exams he did very well on and which he only did pretty well on, and Alfred tells Arthur about quantum mechanics and astrophysics and all the other stuff he read while in exile.

But all good things must come to an end. The muted television in the corner of the room catches Alfred’s eye, and journalist is outside a bank. There are people milling about behind her, looking very concerned, and Alfred grabs the remote and turns the sound back on.

“Alfred, what is it?” Arthur asks.

“The villain Sausage Link is inside this bank. There is an estimated number of between ten and twenty hostages inside. So far, Sausage Link has not responded to any calls made by the crisis negotiation team. Everyone here can only ask, ‘Where is Heroic Dude now?’”

Even after hearing that, Alfred considers just ignoring it and staying with Arthur, but the years of reading comic books come back to him. He thinks about all the heroes who had a hard time balancing their relationships with their duties as superheroes, and how sometimes they had to make sacrifices for the greater good.

“I will always be Heroic Dude,” he whispers to himself.

“Alfred, what’s wrong?” Arthur says.

“I have to go,” Alfred says. “I’m sorry.”

 

He can’t believe Lovino actually managed to get into the bank. But he shrugs away his incredulity for the moment so he can focus his efforts on stopping the situation at hand.

He decides after a second that the best thing to do would be to go up and knock on the door, so he strides toward the entrance to the bank.

A woman runs up to him and grabs his arm. “Heroic Dude, you have to help. Sausage Link has taken a bank hostage!”

“Don’t worry, citizen,” Alfred says grandly.

A cop claps his hand on Alfred’s shoulder. “It’s all up to you now, Heroic Dude,” he says.

“Heroic Dude has arrived! He’s over there. He’s--he’s knocking on the door!” Alfred hears the journalist cry at a camera.

Shocked gasps come from all side as Alfred lifts his fist and slams it twice against the door of the bank, which is tall and made of wood instead of glass and metal. (The bank itself, for the record, is the kind Alfred’s only seen in movies: an imposing stone structure with Greek columns outside and minimal windows.)

Shrieks are heard when the door creaks open, but Alfred isn’t surprised. It’s only Lovino.

What does surprise Alfred is what he sees when he steps into the bank and his nemesis is in full view. He’s lost a lot of weight, and there are dark shadows under his eyes.

“You look horrible, dude!” Alfred says.

Lovino gives him a look. “Yeah, I know. Where have you been?”

“Miss me?” Alfred teases.

“Not at all,” replies Lovino, giving him the finger.

During this exchange, Alfred has been looking around the large marble-floored room. Empty. “Where are the hostages?” he asks.

“Don’t ask me,” Lovino says, glaring at Alfred. “I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Alfred asks.

“There’s something very wrong going on between the dimensions.”

“Parallel universes.”

“This is serious, asshole!”

“Okay, okay,” Alfred says, beginning to worry. “Please continue.”

Lovino breathes deeply and resumes. “I started noticing it after Gilbert came for Ludwig’s birthday. Sometimes things would disappear. Silly little things, like spoons or pencils. Things you don’t really notice vanishing. I did, though, because my spoons are part of a set passed on to me from my Nonna. And things started appearing, too. A box of tissues. A gilded goblet. A watch, the kind where you can see the gears. And I think these things are coming from and going to the other universes.”

“But I thought things could only go to the other universes through the passages behind the cafes, and only with people who can cross borders.”

“Exactly,” Lovino says. “There’s something really wrong happening, Alfred.”

“So is that where the hostages went?”

“I think so. But so far only small things, and nothing living, as far as I know, have come or gone. If eleven people are switching dimensions, this means that whatever’s causing it is getting stronger.”

“Have you told anyone else about this?” Alfred asks. “Your brother, or Ludwig maybe?”

“Nah,” Lovino says. “They don’t care what I have to say.”

Alfred changes tracks. “Does this bank have something to do with all this? Is that why you’re here?”

Lovino glares at him. “I still have to open my restaurant, don’t I?”

Alfred suddenly feels furious. He spins around, grabs Lovino’s shoulders, and shakes the smaller man. “Are you stupid! This is more serious than opening a restaurant! I know that here people are somewhat accustomed to strange things happening and whatnot, but do you know what would happen if some of these hostages were sent to my universe? They’d be labeled crazy and be forcibly detained in a mental facility. Imagine a bunch of regular, everyday people being sent to Arkham Asylum. And do you think it would be better for those sent to different universes? They might be accused of witchcraft and burned at stake or something! Okay? So we’re going to walk out of here, go to the cafe, and ask Gilbert what the hell this means.”

“But Alfred,” Lovino says, staring up at him with big, dark eyes. “What if Gilbert doesn’t know?”

Alfred releases Lovino and steps back. “That’s a possibility I’m not willing to accept.”

After he’s changed out of his supersuit and is escorting Lovino out of a back entrance of the bank, it occurs to Alfred that it’s the first time he’s felt like a leader. He’s facing impending doom (possibly), and he knows it’s selfish, but he’s really happy he finally has a chance to be a real superhero.

He and Lovino enter the cafe, and Alfred marches up to Lars. “I need to see Gilbert right now.”

Lars doesn’t look up from his magazine. “You’re going to have to wait your turn.”

“Look, Lars, this is important,” Alfred protests. “The parallel--”

“It’s always important,” Lars says in a monotone. “You still have to wait.”

“Goddamnit, Lars!” Alfred shouts. Several people look up, confused. He lowers his voice. “Come on, man, this is about the future of the universe! I’m serious. Me and Lovino could disappear to who knows where before Gilbert comes and he’ll never hear about this.”

Lars finally meets Alfred’s eyes. “I’m sorry. You’re obviously crazy, but it’s clear you believe what you’re saying. So I’m sorry. But this is the way it works.”

“Fine!” Alfred huffs, and throws himself dramatically down in a chair. Lars rolls his eyes and returns to his magazine.”

Lovino hesitantly sits down next to Alfred. “What will we do?”

“We’ll wait,” Alfred says. “Hopefully Gilbert doesn’t take too long.”

It takes fourteen minutes for Lars to nod and send them to the back, where Gilbert greets them cheerfully.

“What are you doing here, Lovino?” he asks.

“We don’t have time for this, dumbass!” Lovino yells.

“We think that things are crossing over from one parallel universe to another without going through you,” Alfred says. “Is that possible?”

Gilbert frowns. “It shouldn’t be, but…”

“But what?” Lovino demands.

“When I was younger,” Gilbert says, “before I knew that I could cross borders, I lived in a monastery. The monks there kept me safe from the outside world, since I would be seen as a child of the devil or whatever because I have red eyes. I was supposed to eventually become a monk myself, since I didn’t really have another choice, only being able to leave the monastery under the cover of darkness and all, but it wasn’t really for me. I was understandably thrilled, then, when I discovered Tavern Escape and learned that I could cross borders. I accepted immediately. But when I went to say goodbye to the monks, the Reverend Father pulled me aside and told me the devil was at work in that tavern and that a day would come when the universes would erupt in hellfire, that on that day the monastery and all that was holy would be transported to heathen worlds, and all that was godless would be brought to the hallowed grounds where the monastery used to be, and that if I followed through with this, I would fall to the pits of hell. I was frightened, but so drunk with happiness at the possibility that I could get out of the monastery and do things with my life without worrying about being executed that I ignored the warning and did it anyway. For a while I worried, but enough time spent outside of that medieval society made me lose the faith I’d once had in Catholicism. But maybe the Reverend Father was right all along.”

“So what do we do?” Alfred asks.

“Let’s assume it isn’t something religious doing all of this, because that would be harder to stop, maybe impossible,” Gilbert says. “If it’s not magic, it can probably be stopped by closing the ports between the dimensions.” He starts toward the door to Alfred’s universe. “Come on, I want to see this for myself.”

Gilbert, Alfred, and Lovino pile into the car. “By the way, Gilbert, where’s my brother?” Alfred asks. It’s been the thing he’s been thinking about the most since Lovino told him of the disappearances to other universes.

“I left him at the cafe in your world,” Gilbert says. “He told me he was going to wait there for you.”

Alfred lets out a breath, but he can’t completely relax. Matthew still could be transported somewhere else.

After he’s driven about halfway to the other universe, Gilbert stops the car and puts it in park. “Wait here,” he says, and gets out of the car. An expo marker and a young girl float by slowly. Alfred had expected the missing people and object to zoom quickly to another universe but the expo marker looks like it’s flowing leisurely down a lazy river. Gilbert takes the girl in his arms. She’s crying and fussing, but not screaming. It looks like she’s already done that so much she’s just too tired to keep it up. Alfred’s heart breaks for her.

Suddenly, Gilbert reenters the car. He hands the girl to Alfred, who rubs her back in what he hopes is a reassuring manner.

“We need to get to the other side and close this down, now,” Gilbert says, and starts driving, just as things begin flying in in greater quantities from all directions.

“No shit, dipshit,” Lovino mutters. Alfred covers the girl’s ears. “I’m fucking pissed, that’s what I am. I was the one to notice. The only one, by the way! Where’s the credit? Why aren’t I a hero now? All I ever fucking wanted was to get out of my dead end job under your fucking asshole of a brother and open my--”

Gilbert explodes. “I don’t fucking give a damn whatever the hell you wanted, Lovino! I’ve kind of got more pressing things to think about! Soon, I’ll never see my brother again! Not in person, at least. So forgive me if I don’t exactly feel like adorning you with ribbons right now!”

“Guys, stop!” Alfred says, and to his mild surprise, they actually do. “You’re scaring her.” The girls cries have died down to whimpers. “I know we’re all really stressed right now. Trust me, I have people I’ll miss too. But this arguing can wait until after we’ve sorted this thing out and found a good home for the girl, who we haven’t once spoken to even though she’s conscious, by the way.” He removes his hands and bends down to look underneath the girl’s heavy bangs. He hopes he looks like a kind adult rather than a creepy kidnapper. “What’s your name, sweet pea?”

The girl hiccups. “Y-Yvonne.”

“Yvonne,” Alfred says. “That’s such a pretty name. How old are you, Yvonne?”

“Five,” she whispers.

“Okay, well, don’t worry, Yvonne. Everything will be okay.”

“I want my mommy.”

“I know. You’re not going to be able to see your mother for a while, okay? But you can trust us. It’ll be okay.”

The car lurches to a stop. “We’re back,” Gilbert announces, and they all hop out.

Elizaveta, Matthew, and Tony the alien are waiting for them.

“Hey, Alfred,” Matthew says, but his voice trails off when he sees Yvonne in his brother’s arms. “What’s going on?”

“We need to close the ports, now,” Gilbert says.

“What?” Elizaveta exclaims.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to explain!” Tony says. “There’s been a disparity in the fabric of space that cannot safely be mended. If left alone, eventually each universe will be swept into this ‘rip’ and face an unpleasant future. The most appropriate solution is therefore to place each parallel universe in its own “sphere” in order to isolate them from the threat the disparity presents. None of these silly humans understand me, though!” He turns and walks away.

Gilbert, meanwhile, is standing facing the doors.

“Can you do it?” Alfred asks.

“I can,” says Gilbert. “Well, theoretically at least. But it’s possible. It’s just--I don’t want to.”

“You dickhead, just do it, or we’re all doomed!” Lovino shouts, but Alfred speaks over him. “You know you have to do it, Gilbert.”

“I know that it’s probably the only way to save the universes or at least the only way we have time to come up with right now,” Gilbert says. “But I don’t want to do it. I’ll never see Ludwig again or the Reverend Father or Brother Stephen or the other monks. I just left them without telling them how grateful I am for their protection and their care and that I’m sorry I just left them like that and that I miss them and I feel like I’ve let the people who are in other dimensions but want to come back down. I’ve let them down, and some people are still trapped between dimensions and I’m letting them down too--”

While Gilbert is talking, Alfred puts Yvonne on the ground and puts a hand on Gilbert’s shoulder.

“With great power comes great responsibility,” Alfred says gravely.

With a shout, Gilbert reaches across his body with both hands and grips the air. Then he quickly draws his arms to the other side.

It feels anticlimactic.

“Did it work?” Alfred asks.

“Can someone please explain what’s going on please?” Elizaveta says.

“I think so,” Gilbert says. “Let me check.” He opens the door to the medieval universe. Alfred hears a whinny. A moment later Gilbert returns, leading a horse by the bridle behind him.

“I can’t get through,” he says.

Alfred sighs in relief. A moment later, he sighs again, this time in grief. He misses Arthur already.

Gilbert quickly explains to Elizaveta and Matthew what happened, and then the five of them line up in front of the now useless doors. Alfred reaches out and pushes the superhero door open. There’s an elevator behind it, but the buttons are gone, and the air inside is musty and cool.

“Madonna santa,” Lovino whispers. “Feliciano.”

Alfred is still standing it the elevator. It used to make him happy to be here, to know that he would soon be in the same world as Arthur and his super strength. Now he just feels empty.

Gentle arms slide around his waist. “Anyone you’ll miss?” he asks Matthew, because he feels guilty now that Matthew’s the one comforting him, not the other way around.

“Not really,” Matthew replies. “I was in it more to, you know, experience new places.”

“I’m gay,” Alfred says. Matthew says nothing, so after a pause Alfred keeps talking. “Haha just joking haha I was kidding.”

“I love you, little brother,” Matthew says.

Alfred draws out of his brother’s embrace, but doesn’t let go of Matthew’s hands. “By two minutes!” he squawks.

The teasing feels nice, but Alfred can’t keep the sad feelings from pervading his stomach.

Eventually, Alfred and Matthew leave the cafe to go home. The day seemed so long, it’s hard to believe it’s early enough to keep their original agreement about when to take the bus.

Lovino and Yvonne will stay with Gilbert, Elizaveta, Lili, and the horse at the cafe until each can come up with their own arrangements. Gilbert and Elizaveta already have a tentative plan to live together and raise Yvonne, but Gilbert is too fragile right now to think too much beyond the next day.

“I want to open my restaurant,” Lovino says resolutely when Alfred asks him what he’ll do.

“Just try to achieve that via legal means,” Alfred says.

“We’ll see,” says Lovino with a smirk.

“I fucked up school,” Alfred says as he and Matthew ride the bus back to the house their parents own. “I missed all the college application deadlines. I’m going to have to take a year or a semester off so I can actually apply.”

“That’ll be good,” Matthew says. “Take a year. You should go on a road trip.”

“You think?” Alfred says. “Who with?”

“Nobody,” Matthew says. “It can just be you.”

“I would like to visit San Francisco,” Alfred says. “And New York. And D.C. Go to Air and Space.”

“That sounds cool,” Matthew says. “I wish I could take a gap year.”

“Why don’t you?”

“It isn’t really… done.”

“Screw that,” Alfred says, but he knows Matthew won’t change his mind.

It takes Alfred a full week to write to Arthur. He opens a chatbox on Contact College Friends and writes:

Dear Arthur,

You won’t see me again. It’s not my choice, but it’s the way it has to be, for reasons too insane to tell you.

I would like to tell you that I had the biggest crush on you. I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable. You were more than just a little idea of romance that I could entertain in my head. I sought you out because you had the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen and I stayed because you became the best friend I’d ever had.

I’m going to miss you so much.

-Alfred

It’s not poetry, but it’ll do. Alfred sends the message and deletes his CCF account. He and Arthur could have Skyped or something, but Alfred thinks it’s better this way. He can’t move forward and make the most of his life in this universe if he can still see Arthur.

Autumn comes and Matthew leaves for college.

“Be safe. I love you,” Matthew whispers to Alfred as they hug goodbye.

“Goodbye, son,” his father says stiffly. “See you at Thanksgiving.”

“Be more tender than that!” his mother scolds. “This is your son, leaving for college. How old he’s become. I remember when he was just a tiny baby.”

His father wraps Matthew up in a rare hug.

“Goodbye, darling,” his mother says.

Two weeks later, Alfred takes the ‘97 Ford Taurus and drives off. He circles the country, living out of his backpack and eating diner food every day. He sees forty-nine state license plates and nine Canadian ones. In October, he goes to New Haven to visit Kiku and they take a walk in the woods. Kiku takes one hundred thirty-seven pictures.

Thanksgiving comes, and Alfred is happy to see Matthew, but he feels claustrophobic at home. Even so, he stays a few months at his parents request. He gets a job at Burger King and in January applies to a few colleges. He’s hoping his abysmal scores during the middle of his senior year don’t mess up his possibly being admitted to the University of Chicago, where he wants to go. He wants to study physics.

In the spring he drives to California. He hits Los Angeles first and visits the Griffith Observatory. After that he drives up the coast to San Francisco, and yes, he does check out the gay neighborhoods. His fake ID says he’s twenty-two so he goes to a gay bar. While there, a guy turns to him and says, “That guy over there is creeping me out. Do you mind pretending to be my boyfriend?” So he does, and he has his first kiss with a boy. It’s not exactly romantic, but Alfred likes the story. It’s quirky.

He doesn’t get into Chicago but he does get into University of Texas at Austin and Boston University. He likes both but eventually decides to go to BU because it’s closer to Matthew and Kiku and because as a homosexual person, he’s a little wary of Texas, even if Austin does have a reputation for being pretty liberal.

In June he’s home again, and he gets a call from Gilbert. He and Elizaveta have moved to Seattle, where they are trying to find jobs. Yvonne has been moved to another family, but both think it’s for the best.

“The family she’s with, the parents both have graduate degrees and stable jobs and stuff. They have two other children. She’s better off with them,” Gilbert says.

Come mid-August, Alfred’s parents drive him to Boston and help him set up in his dorm room. His roommate is disappointing, but Alfred makes friends easily and soon feels like he’s carved out his place in the school. He comes out to his friends after midterms and all but one of them are okay with his sexuality.

In one of his classes second semester is a guy named Toris. He’s cute and bisexual and it doesn’t take long for Alfred to invite him to dinner. Alfred feels perfectly at ease around him. Matthew comes to visit for a weekend and gives Toris his stamp of approval.

He still thinks about Arthur a lot, but now the memories aren’t as clear. Alfred can never really be sure if what he’s remembering is what really happened or just a figment of his imagination. One day, he draws Arthur’s eyes and thinks he’s managed to capture them, but he really doesn’t know, because Arthur’s physical attributes are even hazier than the rest of him.

Over the summer, Alfred and Matthew go into the city. They heard from Gilbert that Lili kept Cafe Escape open as a regular cafe, but they don’t go there. They wander around, stumble upon a small street concert, and Matthew buys a sweater even though it’s July because it was 60% off.

Around three thirty, they walk past a normal-looking Italian restaurant.

“Wait,” Alfred says.

Lovino’s Italian Ristorante, it says on the window.

Alfred and Matthew exchange a glance and laugh. “Christ, he actually did it!” Alfred says.

“Well, he has got that otherworldly luck thing going for him,” Matthew reasons.  
Alfred stares at the little restaurant for a while. “Good on him, anyway,” he says eventually, and then he and Matthew continue walking, and they keep walking as long as they can get away with it.


End file.
